Arrested
by emma.mg.9
Summary: She didn't know why she was there. All she knew was that no one was coming for her and that there's a far darker reason behind her arrest. Will anyone come in time to save her from a horrible fate?
1. No Reason

**My Lovelies! Merry Christmas! (Technically a tad late.. but 12 days left right ;) ) Here is a part of my present to you... A NEW STORY! **

**This is COMPLETELY separate from the Amber universe w/ DIFFERENT SHIPS! The next part of my Christmas/Hanukah gifts to you all will (hopefully, fingers crossed) be new chapters for Barricade and (fingers double crossed) Amber before 2015!**

**But without further a do, here's the beginning of ****_Arrested_**

**Warning: This chapter's not too bad.. but it will get worse...**

**Disclaimer: Nope, Santa didn't leave the rights under my tree this year...**

_Chapter 1: No Reason _

A cool, harsh breeze split through the damp cell, causing the one occupant to pull their knees closer to their chest, bury their head within the created crevice, and sob. She didn't know why she was here, what she did to deserve being slapped in public, dragged forcibly from the market place and unceremoniously thrown into a lonely cell in the very back of a dank jail block. All she could put together was seeing the starving boy, no more than what looked like six or seven, younger than Gav for God's sake, reaching up for an apple. She knew the stall owner well; the woman wasn't one to begrudge a starving child food, no matter their lack of funds. She smiled faintly at the memory of not too long ago when this very woman supplied much needed food for her and her siblings. So when she plucked the largest apple from the top of the cart and knelt down to give it to the child, she certainly did not expect a fierce claw to clamp down on her forearm and yank her to a standing position.

_"What do you think you're doing thief?" The man, a towering brute of a fellow, sneered, bearing his less than full mouth. _

_ "Feeding the starving officer." She replied back calmly, attempting to wrench her arm from his grip. To her dismay, the grip only tightened. _

_ "But how are you going to pay the stall keep, eh? I don't see you with cash to spare." _

_ She scowled at him, but was saved from her scathing response by the stall keep. _

_ "The girl knows me, the apple is neither here nor there officer. I can live without for the sake of a child." _

_ "That's kind madam," He replied, voice dripping with false politeness. "But the act was still stealing, no matter how you word it. I'm afraid, you'll be coming with me missy." _

_ Her eyes widened and she began to pull away, but his grip would not slacken. _

_ "You have no right! The stall keep gave me permission in front of you! I didn't steal anything! I'm an honest women!" She screamed, nearly letting slip the _now_ part of her confession. Around them a crowd was forming and she prayed beyond anything that close friends were near by. _

_ But panic increased ten fold when she didn't recognize a single face in the crowd. For the first time in her life, she cursed her stubbornness to the times she lived in and the fact that her phone was in her purse…at her apartment._

_ "Honest?" The man scoffed. "HA! You're nothing but a gamine, a whore dressed in your lover's money, you can't pull wool over my eyes girl, I see straight through your act." _

_ After that, Éponine saw red. Rearing back, she launched her petite form forward to spit in the officer's face, sending her combat clad foot powerfully into his shin as well. The officer howled with rage and brought his beefy hand down powerfully in a backwards swing, knocking the very breath out of her. _

_ She collapsed to the ground, disoriented and dizzy, barely registering the cries of distress and protest from the crowd around them. The man ignored them all. _

_ Yanking her back to a standing stance, he practically ripped her arms out of their sockets, pulling them behind her as her head still spun, her stomach turning dangerously. With her hands trapped behind her back, she couldn't fight the cool metal cuffs that were clapped on her hands. But once his fierce hand pushed her forward to move, her stomach had had enough, and her breakfast was spilled on the square before them. _

_ "Bitch!" The man cried, pushing her forward so violently she was thrown onto the street. Covered in her own sick and feeling the sticky warm substance she knew was blood on her arms, she nearly passed out then and there, but the brutish man would not take her weight. _

_ "Up you whore, you can carry your own weight." _

_ She tried, she'd made it nearly half the journey before the black around her vision consumed the world entirely and she welcomed the ground like an old friend. _

_ Though before everything was lost, feeling her body being lifted over the brute's shoulder, she could've sworn she'd heard him say, _

_ "Your father better be worth this." _

_ Then she remembered nothing. _

Why? She hadn't truly done anything wrong. Since she ran from her father and found haven within the band of misfit students who spoke of social change, she herself had become a more respectable woman! She could pay for any apple she wanted off that cart, but that child was starving! And who's to say she wasn't going to pay the cart keep anyway?

She felt the frigid drip of water from the bars that concealed her window, but she could not make out light from beyond, telling her that the entire day had passed. When she finally came to after fighting the darkness, it was already dark, but she was unaware if it was the darkness of the day she left or the darkness of another.

But no matter the darkness, she had missed the meeting, yet no one stood at her cell demanding her release. No one was there ready to protect her and free her from this confined hell. It was with these thoughts that Montparnasse's words from long ago poisoned her mind.

_"They don't care Ninny. You're just scum in a nice dress. They wouldn't care if you disappeared one day. Hell, I doubt they'd even notice." _

And as darkness once again drowned her, she feared the thief's words were right.

**So... Whatcha think? I would LOVE to hear some comments/reviews for this! (As a Christmas gift ;) ?) **

**So as always follow/fav, comment/review and I hope all of you reading this had/are having marvelous Holiday seasons so far and I promise to be back w/ updates before the new year!**

**Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night lovelies! **

**Until next time! **


	2. The Lovers Stories

**Lovelies! Not feeling the love for this story... I'm being fast with an update, but I'd LOVE to hear from more reviews! **

**Warning: Language**

**Disclaimer: Nope...**

_And as darkness once again drowned her, she feared the thief's words were right. _

No one seemed to pay the couple's entrance any attention. Marius was apologizing profusely for something and Cossette was gracefully pushing it off, slightly put off by something that had happened.

Courfeyac rolled his eyes at the loving couple, nearly sick of all their dopey expressions and gooey gestures. Why, if he were with someone, he'd worship the ground she walked on, but never would he treat her like a prize, or worse, like a puppy. No, his love would be his goddess and yes, the world would know, but it wouldn't make them sick.

He shivered slightly when the next thing that popped into his head was revolving around Éponine, the resident spitfire who'd now missed a total of two meetings. It shouldn'tve worried him all that much. Éponine was a strong, independent woman, who, after running away from her father (with his help.), found a suitable living arrangement, (Grantaire had the extra room and gladly offered to his best friend… Courfeyac hated how his cheeks burned and his insides churned with slight jealousy at this. Especially since he shipped Enjoltaire since day one.), and a decent, honest job. Before all this, she was Marius' hopeless shadow, trailing the buffoon wherever he went and never asking for anything in return.

Even delivering letters to Cosette for him! 'For God's Sake,' Courfeyac thought to himself, mulling over his drink. 'It's 2014! There are thousands of outlets for him to court her for crying out loud! Even if he did begin this damned courtship in 2007.'

The topic of social media brought the shiver right back. The stubborn chit refused to buy into society! She had an i-phone, it was her 24th birthday present, but if he knew her well, which he fancied he did, the phone never left her purse… which never left the apartment unless she was traveling or on a date. So this fact, and the fact that Enjolras sent her out to spread word of his new cause north of Hugo two days ago now, put him on edge.

It didn't help that the lovers brought their light bickering to his table either.

"Cossette darling, I truly am sorry, I didn't realize they still inhabited the apartment next door. If I did, I wouldn'tve brought you over there to grab my bag."

Cossette sighed prettily and reached across the table to take Marius' hand, Courfeyac stifled a gag, Cossette didn't stifle her glare towards him.

"Marius, I told you I wasn't upset by that, I've seen him since that time in my life, I mean, he's Éponine's father for God's sake! Unfortunately I've run into my best friend's father over the years. And it's not you that upset me, or even seeing him, it was the subject of his conversation." She wrinkled her nose and set her face in a scowl as she recalled what they had clearly overheard while Marius collected something from his old apartment (a space Courfeyac was baffled he hadn't sold yet, now that he and Cossette lived in her much more lavish flat.).

Jehan, who had fluttered over to the table, sending doe eyes in Combeferre's direction (the latter who blushed furiously.), sat down in a flourish.

"Who had the upsetting conversation Sette?"

Courfeyac fought the urge to head desk, leave it to Jehan to question the meat of the love (dodo) birds' conversation.

"Oh, only my lovely neighbor, Thénardier." Marius remarked. Silence fell around the back room, suddenly everyone was disinterested in their own activities now only interested in the so far unspoken name of the evening.

Ever-oblivious Pontmercy, noticed nothing.

"What was he saying?" Grantaire questioned quietly, the weight of the empty chair beside him becoming too heavy.

"He was talking with a man we couldn't see." Cossette began. "He was laughing at first, criticizing this man for some scheme he came up with. Then he said he wouldn't risk his hide for anyone, no matter the threat or no matter where they were. No matter the blood. He laughed again and slammed the door, but Marius and I were already inside the room by then, so we didn't see the person he was talking to." She finished quietly.

Silence once again fell upon the group as they took in Cosette's story. But soon, they took it as nothing, realizing all the other shit the master con gets himself into and resumed the activities they were attending to prior to the dreary conversation.

The night continued quite uneventfully. Gavroche came in a little over an hour after the conversation, but even his jump was gone. No one asked about his sister's whereabouts, but no one had too. He met Enjolras' eye and shook his head sadly before going over to play cards with Bahorel and Feuilly. Courfeyac couldn't remember a time in his life where he had been more one edge. But, he also couldn't remember a set of eyes and a raw honey voice that drove him so insane.

Losing himself in thought, his mind was drawn back to the first night he actually acquainted himself with the woman who was now plaguing his every thought.

_Enjolras, Courfeyac, and Combeferre were practically jogging through the downpour to reach the safety of their beloved café. It wasn't supposed to rain that evening, nothing in the clouds of the day had led to this turn of events, so none of the boys were prepared. _

_Nearly at their destination, Courfeyac paused to catch his breath (out of the three, the only one who quite enjoyed the rain.). It was in that moment he heard the hushed sobs from down the alley. _

_ Peering down to see what was making the noise he noticed a small figure crouched against the wall, landing themselves directly in the largest puddle of the street. _

_ Without a second thought, Courfeyac diverted his path to down the alley, taking his coat off as he went. He ignored the confused calls from his friends as he reached the figure. Kneeling down, he tensed when he saw them, _her, _flinch. _

_ "I'm not on duty tonight Mousier, be on your way." She whispered bitterly, not looking up from her tightly drawn in knees. Courfeyac shuddered again. _

_ "That's not why I'm here Mademoiselle. I'm here to offer a coat and a warm meal." He supplied, draping the coat over her bony shoulders. It was then she turned to face him, her eyes full of hate. He nearly stumbled back when he recognized the face; This was Marius' Shadow! _

_ "I'm not a charity case bourgeoisie boy." She sneered, but her act was foiled when a violent cough wracked her malnourished frame. _

_ "Wasn't making you one, simply being a human being." He answered, rising to a stand only to offer his hand back down to her. A gesture she flatly ignored. _

_ "I won't shy away from carrying you. My friend Joly would hate to think you spent the entire rain storm in a puddle." He chided (cringing at what Joly would say to _him_ when he arrived at the café without a coat, drenched from head to toe.)._

_ She regarded him carefully, eyeing the hand and his face in turn. She didn't want to give in, she wasn't anyone's conscience clearer. But she knew the boy, he was Marius' best friend. The joker, the center,_ the womanizer_. But then the puddle she sat in seemed to drop once more in temperature and the rain above picked up. Tentatively she wrapped her slim fingers around his long ones and let him lift her up. _

_ Courfeyac was right, Joly did fret over the young woman, who had reintroduced herself(though, because Pontmercy was her only connection before it was more of a first introduction.), as Éponine, but it was in this gentle care Joly showed, and the jovial hospitality shown by the rest of the boys that brought the girl in deeper than she had ever imagined. _

_ Who knew that nearly six months of attending the meetings, and receiving tutorage, meals, and affection, that she would have a home with the cynic, Grantaire and a family with these boys__? There was a particular incident that both parties swore to speak of to any other member of the group._

_However, unbeknowigst to the two young souls that evening, the moment of fingers wrapping together as one was probably the moment the womanizer lost his touch. Well, if the touch wasn't lost then, it was certainly lost during their unspoken encounter. _

Enjolras eventually began the meeting and attempted to pull everyone's attention, but eyes trained to the door anyhow. Grantaire would've laughed if the situation weren't what it was, Apollo almost always held attention while giving a meeting. Twenty minutes in, Enjolras knew it was fruitless. Sighing, he dropped his head in his hands and decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Has anyone seen Éponine since she went to lower rent district to spread word of the cause."

Several heads shook negatively, Jehan even choked back a small sob, burying himself into Combeferre's sweater.

"Maybe she went out of town?" Bousset suggested weakly, his idea dying on his lips before he could finish both with unbelievablity and the sudden crash of the door.

The sudden open door revealed a frazzled Musichetta, her red hair flying like sparks in every direction.

"Boys, Madame Poutil from the farmer's market is demanding to see you lot. She says it's important."

Enjolras, (along with Joly, and Bousset) who had risen to their feet at the sudden entrance of the café owner, moved to meet her.

"Madame Poutil? Doesn't she have a fruit cart at the market near the low rent district?" Enjolras questioned, and Courfeyac, who was sitting closest, felt his blood freeze when Musichetta nodded slowly, a tear making her way down her perfectly made-up face.

"She doesn't look too good, Enj, I don't think her news is any good."

"Well, bring her in Chetta." Enjolras whispered once more, pressing a chaste kiss to the owner's brow before she ducked back out the door.

Musichetta was only gone a few moments when she returned again trailed by the middle aged Madame Poutil, a portly woman with a laugh worn face and a well loved array of clothing covering her slightly hunched frame. Once the woman was ushered to a seat, Musichetta went to her boys and sank into Bousset's lap and took Joly's hand into her own.

Madame Poutil looked ready to cry, causing Courfeyac to promptly fall off his metaphoric edge and was about to explode.

"Boys, I was threatened not to come here by the officer who commissioned the heinous act, but I can not stand dumb while I imagine what's going on."

The second the word officer left her lips, everyone rose, someone even dropped a glass. The loud sound of shattering made everyone jump. Courfeyac paid his mess no mind, urging the woman to continue her story.

"I've known Éponine since she was small, yes the little snit was a thief, but for nothing of monetary gain unless it was for her scum of a father. The only thing I remember the poor girl taking from my cart that wasn't under that bastard's orders was fruit, and that she used to give her siblings."

Gavroche shivered, he hated being reminded of his upbringing, he also hated where this was going.

"I haven't seen her in a while, but despite my affection for the girl, I was happy for that. When I saw her that day, dressed well, well fed, smiling, I couldn't be happier. When she plucked the biggest apple from the top of the cart to give to the little starving gamine, well, who am I to scold the best fruit thief in Paris for taking for someone less fortunate? Well, the officer walking by didn't think so."

Courfeyac fought the urge to growl (_growl_) with anger.

"I tried to tell him it was nothing, a lost apple to a child was far better than a lost apple to rot, but he had no ears for me, no ears for the crowd, and certainly no ears for her. He clapped her in cuffs and shoved her on her way, but," The older woman began to tear up. "Not before clubbing her with his stupid baton. The poor girl couldn't stand! But his lackey threatened to shoot if anyone intervened." Big thick tears ran down Madame Poutil's wrinkled cheeks.

This was far beyond what they had feared. If she'd been taken back by her father, at least they knew where she was and could get her out. But this? This?

"Madame, why couldn't you have come sooner? She'd be safe with us if we'd have known." Enjolras spoke gently, trying to keep his emotions in check and not upset the older woman anymore.

"He threatened me. He told me if I went to you lot they'd take away my business, my family. Their senior officer paid me a visit and listed off the names and locations of my children."

"You risked the safety of your children?" Cossette breathed, paling with every new piece of information that surfaced.

"That's why I wasn't here sooner, I told them to lay low, leave the country if they had too. Anything to get this news to you. That girl is being held in the city prison on no charges and at the mercy of that monster, I couldn't let it go on any longer, I couldn't sleep with my rosary beads at my bedside and know she's alone."

"Oh my God." Cossette gasped once more, drawing attention from the weeping woman to the younger one.

"Oh my God! Thénardier's conversation! The one we overheard Marius, about not risking his own hide!"

Marius' eyes doubled in his skull. "You don't think?"

Courfeyac, who'd heard the conversation before, slammed his fist on the table, sufficiently smashing another glass.

"They're using her as bait."

**Please leave a review... it makes my day and helps me see if there's anything I should fix... **

**Until next time lovelies **


	3. The Horrifying Reveal

**Hello My Lovelies! Last update of 2014! To all of you have rung in 2015 happy new year! To those waiting (like me!) Have a happy ring in!**

**Here's the next chapter here and I'm warning you now, the story is going to take a dark turn... So I'd love a review to hear some thoughts! **

**Warning: Violence and sexual themes **

**Disclaimer: Not in 2014 and probably not in 2015 either... **

_"They're using her as bait." _

"But who is 'he' you keep talking of Madame?" Jehan questioned quietly, knowing the only senior officer they knew of had retired some months ago.

With another sniffle, she looked pitifully at Marius before releasing the name.

"Theodule Gillenormand."

Éponine pulled her knees in tighter, wincing at the sharp pain that radiated from her chest at her ball forming attempts. For the first time in what felt like forever, her mind was beginning to clear and she could just make out a sliver of daylight from beyond her cell.

She shivered as the cold crept in through the cracks around her, her torn jeans and thin blouse sorry protection from stone cold surfaces around her. Hearing the sharp clack of metal boots against the rock she feigned sleep. No one had come since they'd dumped her in here (that she'd known of.), maybe this guard would leave as well.

A sickly sugary voice that dragged her stomach down and caused the hairs rise on the back of her neck informed her she was wrong.

"You're not fooling anyone girl, sit up."

She didn't want to face him, he was the last person (behind even Montparnasse and her father.) she wanted to see.

She wasn't given a choice.

"I said, sit up!"

Vicious hands snatched her from her fetal position and thrust her dangerously fast for her recovering head to a standing position, forcing her to meet the now swirling head of Theodule Gillenormand III.

"Well, Whore, you think you've earned the right to deny my wishes after that mutt took you for his own?" He sneered, bringing his whiskey reeking face dangerously close to hers. She attempted to turn away, but a fierce clasp of her jaw between his thumb and forefinger prevented that.

"You haven't earned anything, bitch." He spat.

"My father won't come for me. It's a useless ploy, I moved out months ago and he wouldn'tve given a rat's ass about me here even if I was under his roof." She sneered back at him, struggling greatly in his grip.

He let out an freighting bark of laughter.

"That's only the cover reason I had you arrested you for viper. The true reason was to get what I was robbed of that night near Sacré-Cœur."

Éponine felt her eyes widen comically as the memory burned its way through her mind.

_It had only been a month, one month, and still she felt dirtier than the deepest sewer rat. _

_ She was still tentative about being around this rambunctious group of young men. Long nights, strange hands, and harsh words still plagued her trust, but they'd been nothing but kind and welcoming in the days she'd been with them. _

_ A trait, she'd been reminded by her father and then Montparnasse, would only last so long. _

_ She never took their money, and only took food when she desperately needed it, much to the chagrin of Joly. But she refused to be a leach. _

_ Which is why she was wandering the alleys and stairs of __Sacré-Cœur near three am one morning. _

_ Azelma was sick and her parents weren't going to bring her to the hospital anytime soon, let alone get her medicine. They figured it'd be one less mouth to feed. __Éponine felt differently, but she'd be damned if she took any money off these boys to pay for her sister. It would've be the same for both siblings if Gavroche hadn't found haven in the boys first. _

_ She was exhausted and she'd lost her touch. She'd been out since gone eleven and no one came near her. _

_ Part of her screamed in relief, she never wanted the feeling of any other man on her body ever again unless he loved her, which at the rate she was going, was never going to happen. _

_ But the other part fluttered back to little Azelma, coughing and wheezing in their room at home, so she pushed on. _

_ At quarter till four, a drunken man appeared from down the street and despite the bile rising her throat, followed by severe guilt, she tried to make herself look presentable. _

_ The man took it. _

_ "Wha do we have here?" The sickly sweet sugar voice rang out. "A free go with a sexpot like you? Sign me up." He moved to take her, push her up against the wall and thrust until she screamed for mercy, but her small hand on his chest halted his actions. _

_ "No Mousier, this is not free. You pay or you leave." _

_ "I won't pay unless I'm satisfied." He growled, throwing her arm aside and forcing her into the wall with his chest, flattening her petite frame as he went to hungrily attack her neck. _

_ "GET OFF OF ME!" She screamed, fighting against his weight. He ignored her cries, moving a hand to her breast, squeezing tightly. _

_ She screamed. "LET ME GO!" He clamped a hand over her mouth and continued to kneed forcefully at her breast, pressing the rising proof his desire forcefully into her soft belly. _

_ She continued to scream though despite his hand. Halting his work on his belt, he slammed her head into the brick wall. _

_ Where her screams faltered, the affect didn't. _

_ "HEY! She said to get off!" A voice called from behind the drunk man. _

_ "Wait your turn." He grunted, moving back to his belt. _

_ "She said get off." The visitor repeated. "So do as she says and you will leave here in tact, for now."_

_ "She isn't anyone, just a whore, and they don't get a say." _

_ The visitor didn't take this lightly. Éponine felt the weight be peeled off of her and she sunk to the ground, head spinning and tears running freely. _

_ She saw her savoir pull the attacker back and land a hard fist in his face. _

_ "She is a person, and she always has a say." The savior growled. "Now leave , before I call the cops." _

_ "You can't do this to me!" Her attacker spat, rising to meet her savoir. "I want what I came for!" _

_ "You'll leave or you'll get what's coming to you." _

_ The attacker stood there for a moment longer before spitting in Éponine's direction and tore from the alley in an awkward drunken jog. _

_ Her savior let out a deep breath and turned to face her. If Éponine had wanted to die before, she certainly wanted to die now. _

_ Standing before her was Courfeyac. _

_ "My God, Éponine! What were you thinking! Being out late! Especially here!" He scolded, her strength had come back enough to allow her to scowl. _

_ "I was thinking I was fine." She bit out, wincing as she rose. _

_ "Fine? He was about to take you by force Éponine, that is not fine! And why here? With all of the…" _

_ "Don't you dare judge me Francois." She seethed, moving to point her finger directly in his face. _

_ "Zelma's sick and I need the money to get her to the hospital." _

_ Courfeyac fell back slightly. This girl was willing to remain a lady of the night to make sure her siblings were well. _

_ "Ép, we would've,"_

_ "I don't want to be a leech!" She cried, exasperated. _

_ "Ép, you're not,"_

_ "I've been getting meals off of you and warmer clothes for a month now, I've hardly done anything for myself. It's only a matter of time before you tell me to go to hell."_

_ Courfeyac didn't have to think of his next action, or give it thought really, for he pulled the shaking girl into a tight squeeze, to which she immediately tensed up. _

_ Remembering what had just occurred, he let go, but kept his arms on her shoulders. _

_ "Ép, I know they're not here, but I speak for everyone when I say you are not a leech and we would never tell you to go to hell. You're stuck for life kid." _

_ She wanted to smile, but looked away in shame. _

_ "Not after this." _

_ Courfeyac was silent, but only for a moment. _

_ "I swear to you I'll never tell a soul of tonight if you swear to me you'll let us help you when you need it?" _

_ She hesitated, almost argued, but then, a man's arms had never felt so safe and the promise of an honest life among the friends she had made was far better than the hell she'd been living. _

_ She stuck out her hand. _

_ "Deal." _

_ They shook and together made their way through the breaking dawn to get her cleaned up. _

_ It was then that, despite her friendship with everyone, even Grantaire, it was Courfeyac whom she trusted the most. _

Every eye found Marius and he audibly gulped when several pairs narrowed, the thinnest belonging to those of his best friend.

"Theo? He's in the force is he?" Marius squeaked out, slipping a finger nervously under his sweater collar and pulling it away from his rapidly heating neck. "Grandfather hadn't mentioned."

"To be a senior officer, you'd have to be in the force for at least five years if not more Pontmercy, how have you not seen your cousin to realize he was a senior officer?" Grantaire drolled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

In the next moment, something happened that shocked even the mighty Apollo.

Marius rose from his chair so swiftly it fell back to the ground in his wake. He charged Grantaire and took him by the collar and rose the cynic to his level, causing several shouts of protests.

"I _hate_ my cousin. I couldn't give two shits if he'd risen to the top of the police force in an hour, and I certainly don't know why he'd arrest Éponine and I definitely didn't have any part in the arrest of my best friend."

Cossette was the one to pull her fiancé off the artist. It would've been Enjolras, had Combeferre and Bahorel not held him back before the marble statue could unleash his fury.

"This is madness! Marius, we know you can't stand Theodule and Grantaire it's not Marius' fault that his bastard of a cousin arrested Éponine! For God's sake, why would Marius ever think of using one of us as bait for anything? And if he knew don't you think he would've told someone?" Cossette shouted, daring anyone to challenge her. When she saw several pondering looks at her last remark she couldn't hold back her agitated sigh (complete with eye roll).

"Oh for the love of God, he isn't _that_ oblivious!"

Marius had stepped back from his fiancé and fixed his best attempt at a glare at the rest of the group while sulking down into one of the now vacated armchairs.

Once Enjolras was deemed sane enough to be released by Combeferre and Bahorel, he (after making sure Grantaire was alright) returned to leader mode.

"Alright, so we know Ép's been arrested with hopes of luring her father and possibly more of the Patron-Minette to jail, but we also know that not a single one of them would risk their lives or freedom to save her, or even themselves if necessary. Does anyone think they know of another reason as to why Marius' cousin would have her arrested?"

There was another crash, followed by a string of curses, then (to everyone's shock) Courfeyac's coat as it swung violently over his departing form.

**So... Whatcha think? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave a review! I would LOVE to hear from you all! **

**Happy New Year to Everyone! 2014 has been a wonderful year! Here's to 2015! **

**Until Next time Lovelies! **


	4. Twas a Promise

**Hello My Lovelies! Long time no update? I'm liking the reviews... but i would LOVE some more :) **

**I'm warning now... this is the last chapter before content takes a turn for the extremely dark... a different kind've dark from my other stories.. so I'm just putting that out there now.. **

**Warning: Language, coming darkness **

**Disclaimer: Still No **

_There was another crash, followed by a string of curses, then (to everyone's shock) Courfeyac's coat as it swung violently over his departing form._

"Courf, what the hell?!" Bahorel boomed, charging after the young dandy to clamp a large hand on his shoulder before the smaller man could exit the room.

"Let me go Rel, I have to go _now_." He growled, attempting to rip his arms from the fighter's grip.

"Not until you tell us what the hell you know!" Bousset yelled, moving to secure the center from leaving.

"NO! You don't understand, I have to get there now! I can't be too late; he wants what he couldn't take last time. That's why he's had her arrested!" Courfeyac shouted, now fighting both of his friends.

"Too late? What are you talking about Courf?" Joly questioned, severely puzzled at this point.

Frantic, not wanting to break his vow to Éponine, he shook his head and he turned towards Bahorel.

"Look, I promised her I wouldn't tell what happened that night, but you have to believe me when I say we need to move _now_."

Something crossed his once jubilant coffee orbs, something Bahorel had never seen taint the jester's eyes, something so vulnerable and startling, the fighter released his grip.

"What do you need us to do?" He questioned, placing one hand one Bousset to release him and the other on Grantaire, the latter who was still fuming at the lack of answers.

"Some of you come to back me up, we're going to the jail."

"I can call Javert." Cossette offered, leaving her place by Marius (who was still slightly put off) to join the group near the door.

"You think he'll help?" Gavroche sneered. The young boy, despite the Inspector's turn around and later retirement (leading him to a much closer position to the group than before.), still harbored distrust towards the older man who once chased a younger Gavroche throughout the streets of the city.

Cossette shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt, despite retirement he still has a very strong influence in the force."

Gavroche looked at her skeptically, but eventually nodded, moving to join the boys on their way to the jail.

A soft hand on his shoulder halted his attempts though.

"Gav, I think you'd better stay here." Jehan gently suggested, rubbing small circles onto the boy's shoulder.

"Jehan, I'm thirteen, not six, and I'm going to help save my sister."

"Gav, Jehan's right, we don't know what it's going to be like at the jail, you should stay here." Combeferre pushed, coming to defend his boyfriend.

Gav stomped his foot and looked around defiantly, finding Courfeyac and setting on his best pout.

Kneeling (though Gav was catching up fast.) to meet the boy's eyes his clasped his shoulders gently.

"Gav, I swear to you, we'll bring your sister home, but I don't want you in harms way either, so for me and for Ponine, stay here please?"

Frowning, but not finding any give in his best friend's face, groaned and went to sulk at the back couches.

Only sparing the teen a fleeting glance, he nodded towards the door.

"Rel, R, Enj, and who else is coming with me?"

"I'll go." Bousset raised his hand, moving towards the group.

"I'll prepare a work space here," Joly spoke. "Just in case."

Courfeyac snapped his eyes shut, praying they wouldn't need that, but nodded anyway.

"Alright, let's go."

Éponine hadn't moved. She remained knotted so tightly into herself nearly shaking from both the pressure and the fear of what might occur in the next few hours. Theodule left laughing, warning that he may come back at any moment to take what he deserved.

_"I'll scream, surely someone will hear. This isn't legal. It's 2014 not 1814, this isn't allowed anymore." She seethed, moving as far from his under his forceful grip as she could manage. _

_ He let out a hollow bark of laughter. _

_ "You scream, I'll not only take you and then slit your throat, but I'll arrest every last one of your little friends and make them suffer." _

_ She looked for his bluff; for it was not her own life she feared, but those of her friends. _

_ "You can't." _

_ "Are you willing to risk that slut? I'd even wait until I'd rounded each one and tortured them before draining your pathetic life away, especially that court jester of yours. The one who ruined our first opportunity together, I think I'll save him for last, slow and steady and all that." _

She shivered once more. She truly had no choice, no one would harm her boys as long as she had a say, or at least something to keep it from happening.

But as the sharp click of unforgiving boots made its way down the narrow corridor, Éponine's bravery began to crack, tears welling in her wide eyes.

When an ordinary guard arrived at her cell, simply sliding a plate with stale bread and what she could only assume was once cheese, she nearly cried from relief.

The guard, a younger man, not much older than her if not younger, looked at the prisoner with an air of sympathy. He didn't know the officer's history with this girl, or why she was being held here for a plot that was rotten to begin with. Though he had heard the officer's fantasies as he boasted to the others in the break room, draining his third bottle of the evening. Listened as he described horrible cruel and vicious acts of sex that even a psychopath wouldn't be able to conjure in his dizziest daydream. He felt for the girl and wished to free her then and there, but the officer had threatened all of them with severe punishment if any of them dared to tamper with his grand plans.

Wishing to comfort this poor woman, the guard knelt to her level and tried to rub a reassuring hand on her shoulder only to have her jump back from it.

"He's not coming yet, not for a while I don't think. You got loved ones out there?" He questioned gently, hoping the answer would be in the positive. He smiled slightly when her head nodded slowly, more tears sparkling down her red cheeks.

"I will do everything in my power to deter him until the come."

She let out a sob. "They don't even know I'm here! I doubt they'll care either. I'm just a whore; they're well to do students. Who am I to them but dirt from the street."

The guard panicked for a moment, horror evident on his face, but he soon regained his composure.

"You're not as he says you are. I believe they will come for you." He offered quietly.

"I gave up on believing a long time ago." She whispered and re-twisted into herself. The guard sighed and stood, making his way down the dismal corridor, hoping these supposed students weren't who she led herself to think they were.

"Courf, there is no way I'm allowing you behind the wheel of my car." Enjolras spoke, his voice ever calm, then again, it always is before a storm.

"We need to get there _now!_" He roared, making a move for the keys that now dangled tantalizingly from Enjolras' mockingly open grip.

"We're going now! But you're in a state unfit to be behind the wheel, it won't help Ép if we're all in the ER."

Several groans came from the small group as Courfeyac's head snapped up so quickly Enjolras jumped back. He'd realized his poor choice of words perhaps a moment to late.

"_All _in the ER? Then why the hell won't you let me drive! He's going to rape her to death for God's Sake, we have to go now!"

It was spoken, the one thing Courfeyac swore to her never to tell them. The true intentions of Theodule Gillenormand were revealed.

"Courf, what the fuck are you hiding from us?" Grantaire breathed, now taking the keys from his boyfriend's hand and opening the car door. He was probably the second person that shouldn't be allowed to drive in this situation, but now was not the time to argue.

"I swore to her not to tell you," He spoke through gritted teeth and held his hand up when there were protests. "And if I am to break that promise, I want her permission first, so for the love of God, please, _please_ let us get in the God damn car and drive!"

No one else argued, doors opened and were slammed and Grantaire brought the red BMW to life, only to dart down the road as soon as physically possible.

"_Hold on Ponine," _Courfeyac thought to himself. "_I'm coming for you." _

**Well? Watcha think? Please PLEASE leave a comment/review or follow/fav **

**Also, prayers for those affected by the terror attack in Paris. Thoughts and Prayers with their families...**

**Until Next Time lovelies :) 3 **


	5. The stuff Nightmares are made of

**Hello My lovelies! I'm fast aren't I? I promise the other stories will also get their chapters, but this one's ready and I do love you guys ;) (Would love you even more (with faster chapters) if I got some more love w/ reviews :) ) **

**Warning: Alright... this chapter is the darkest so far and has some questionable sexual content... I don't think it's quite enough to change the story rating to M, but if there was a higher T or T+, it'd be that... So, if you're not comfortable with that... I do apologize for this chapter, but this is the only time it will be this graphic... **

**Disclaimer: No **

_"Hold on Ponine," Courfeyac thought to himself. "I'm coming for you." _

Sleep came and went for Éponine in the dank cell. Any sound or movement caused her to let out an involuntary whimper of fear and brought her knees closer to her chest. He was playing with her, drowning her in fear she hadn't experienced in nearly two years, since she left her father, since she met the boys, met Courfeyac.

Thinking of her (_her?!) _jovial mop head brought more tears down her cheek. She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the cell, but she figured it had been at least a day, if not two, and no one had come. Not even a word of worry or mention from the guards that anyone had come for her. Montparnasse was right, they didn't care and they never had. She had leeched off of them long enough. Éponine shuddered when she pictured Courfeyac telling everyone how he discovered her that night. Pictured the looks of disgust and disdain and then, worst of all, Courfeyac's explosion of laughter, thanking God he'd no longer have to deal with a whore.

When the sharp rap of boot heels made their way down the passage once more, Éponine almost sighed in relief that her torment would end soon. She prayed Theodule would kill her afterwards, and quickly, for living like this, knowing she was abandoned would be far worse than what the disturbed officer was going to inflict on her within moments.

"My my, making yourself comfortable my dear?" Theodule's sickly sweet words poisoned her ears as she slowly sat up to face him.

"Go to hell." She spat.

"Tsk tsk tsk my dear, is that anyway to treat your customers?" He chided, pulling out his keys and sifting through to find the correct one. It was in this action that she noticed the cuffs, rope, and—she nearly gagged—a whip, gag, and knife, clutched in his other hand.

"I'm out of that line of work and I'd never work for you." She sneered, moving as far from him as she possibly could in the confined cell. He had the nerve to laugh.

"Well that's for damn sure. If I were paying you, if you were _worth_ anything, I'd bring you to my room, to my bed. But then I realized that you're nothing but dirt under foot so you don't deserve anything welcoming as we perform the only duty you're made for."

Tears burned behind her chocolate eyes, eyes Courfeyac once mentioned he could drown in. _No!_ She scolded herself, he didn't care, none of them did, Theodule was right she wasn't worth anything.

"That is?" She swallowed, willing the tears to dissipate; she would not show weakness in front of this monster.

The heavy lock crashed to the ground, bringing forth an involuntary yelp and from him, laughter. She began to shake as the metal door swung open and he moved closer to her.

"Why, giving me pleasure of course."

In an instant, Theodule was in front of her, handful of her hair in his greedy fist lifting her to his level. She bit back a yelp of pain; she would never give him the fulfillment.

"Oh come now dear, I don't get a little scream?" He taunted, bringing his pitiful mug near her stoic face.

"Go to hell." She whispered again, spitting in his face.

"Well," he calmly wiped the saliva from his face. "If that's how you want to play it." He dragged her from her haven in the back of the cell only to slam her face first onto the bars. "We can play it that way." He growled, pulling out a second pair of handcuffs from his pocket and securing her left hand to one of the bars repeating the action with the right.

"There, no running this time whore." He whispered into her ear. She shuddered; any chance of escape had dwindled when he locked her hands to the bars. Still she fought against him, fought against the course gag he tied around her mouth, the blood red blindfold he tied around her eyes, and especially the ropes he began to wrap around her torso.

"Oh, does my whore not like it rough? Not used to this kind of treatment? Well," he laughed once more, working at removing her shirt, tearing the fabric slowly. "You haven't been used properly then."

As the sound of ripping cotton filled the small cell he attacked her neck with his sickening lips, sucking to cause pain, to bring the blood to the surface of her skin to mark his territory. It was this idea that brought the tears back.

He moaned as one of his free hands found a now exposed breast, squeezing mercilessly. "I can't wait until you scream for me." He whispered.

He began his work at her jeans one handed, as the other stayed occupied at her breast. She felt the proof of his disgusting lust press into the small of her back, directly behind her, directly in the line of fire of her so far untied legs. She had moments before the remains of her jeans fell to the floor, so she knew she had to move quickly.

Even if the boys didn't care, even if she was doomed to die here alone, she wouldn't go down without a fight.

Taking advantage of Theodule's lustful distraction, she swung her leg back as powerfully as she could.

Once they got the exact details from Cossette as to where an officer such as Theodule would bring his prisoners, they arrived at the jail faster than Courfeyac expected (even less expected was the lack of worrying from Enjolras about breaking the speed limit.). Not waiting for the others, he slammed the doors open, not caring for the dozens of eyes that found the disturbance in the otherwise quiet station and narrowed.

Marching up to the desk where an officer sat particularly bored, he raised his fists high and slammed them on the battered wood.

"Hey! What the hell?" The officer spluttered, stunned by the sudden appearance of the crazed individual.

"I've come to get Éponine Thénardier." Courfeyac stated, growling when the officer's eyes widened.

"I have strict orders ta not release her under any circumstance, she's a wanted criminal." The officer blundered back, surprise not wearing off.

He pounded the desk once more.

"That is a load of bullshit and you know it, now release her to me or so help me God you and every other officer here will regret keeping her from me."

The officer paled, but held his ground.

"Sir, that is a direct threat to the force and if you're not careful could result in your arrest."

The others had arrived behind Courfeyac at this point and Enjolras immediately placed himself at the desk directly in front of the officer.

"You have no power over us when you are holding a woman here against her will on no charges what so ever. So I think it is of your best interest if you bring us the person we're seeking."

The officer stuttered for a few minutes before shaking his head vehemently.

"I've got orders. Boss said she's not to be removed from her cell on any demands, not until her father comes to break her out."

Before Courfeyac could continue to yell at the idiot a decidedly feminine scream filled the station.

"ÉP!" Courfeyac shouted. Ignoring everyone else around him, he launched himself over the counter and took off in the direction of the scream.

"Hey, HEY! You can't go back there!" The officer shouted, but it was no use, the brunette had disappeared to the cellblock.

"I'm going to arrest your friend." The officer wielded on the rest of the young men who stood rooted to the spot.

"You'll find we have something up our sleeve that says you can't." The tallest growled, cracking his knuckles slowly and deliberately.

The officer had the decency to gulp audibly.

Theodule screamed as Éponine's leg connected with his very vulnerable and tender lust.

She almost sagged with relief as he collapsed to the ground, but it was short lived, for soon something burned in her thigh and she could feel her flesh being split and torn as he dragged the knife down her leg. She let out a muffled scream as blood streamed down her leg.

"You bitch! You whore! How dare you!" He shrieked, still in pain and keeping a shaking hand on the knife lodged her. "By Christ you'll pay for what you've done!" He tore the knife out of her leg and raised it once more. "I will have my pleasure, whether you're conscious or not." He yelled, bringing the knife down once more, but an outrageous yelling stopped his hand midair.

Courfeyac ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The scream had died, but more shouting followed, along with muffled screams. The muffled screams caused his blood to boil.

When he arrived to the last corridor he looked down to find a site that would haunt him forever.

Éponine was facing him, not by choice. Both of her arms were spread out as wide as they could and handcuffed to the bars. Her shirt was falling off of one shoulder, obviously torn from the back. Her eyes were covered with a red sash and she was gagged. He couldn't see Theodule, but he did see a disembodied arm yielding a knife that was dripping blood.

Courfeyac let out an almost primal howl as he charged the cell. He shouted in relief when he found the bastard hadn't locked the door behind him. Theodule looked at the intruder but only got a moment's glance before Courfeyac tackled him to the ground.

Barely holding back sobs with the pain vibrating through her leg, she heard the new voice and the damn broke. Courfeyac, _Courfeyac!_ He was here! She sagged against the bars now, the pain and exhaustion over coming her and with any light blocked by the blindfold over her eyes, her fight to keep them open was slowly ending.

"You filthy piece of shit! I thought I told you before, if you _ever _came near her again you'd get what's coming to you!" Courfeyac shouted, the image of Éponine helpless fueling every punch that landed squarely in cop's face.

"I was getting what I deserved." Theodule choked out, spitting out the blood that was pouring from the lip that Courfeyac had successfully split.

"No," The jester growled, lifting the man by the collar. "Now you're getting what you deserve. Now you give me the keys to those cuffs or I won't hesitate to end your pathetic life here and now."

"Courf!" Someone shouted behind him. He dropped Theodule to the ground and turned to see the rest of the boys round the corner and stop dead in their tracks.

In her fading haze, Éponine made out the sounds of others approaching. Enjolras' shout, then gasps. More tears, more relief.

"Pon?" Bahorel breathed, blinking furiously, wishing it were only a nightmare, that none of this was truly happening.

Suddenly Courfeyac felt a sharp pain in his arm and whipped around to see Theodule sink his knife into his exposed left arm.

"That's what you get for interrupting me."

**HEY! So... I know... but I would really REALLY appreciate some feedback for this chapter... Like it would be MUCH appreciated! **

**I promise more updates soon :) **

**Until next time lovelies! **


	6. Something to Prove

**Lovelies! Look! Fast update! The others are in the works, but here's chapter 6 for Arrested. Loving the feedback, always love it so keep it coming :) **

**Warning: Language.. ALSO, the last chapter was the most graphic, but that doesn't mean this is the end of the drama... Just a prewarning there..**

**Disclaimer: Yea, no...**

_"__That's what you get for interrupting me."_

Theodule smirked. Courfeyac howled in pain as he wrestled his arm away from Theodule who began to twist his knife.

"HEY! LET GO YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Grantaire roared, entering the cell to physically pry Theodule's fingers from the knife only to slam his heavy boot on the free hand as soon as it had dropped.

Courfeyac struggled to stand, to go be near Éponine, to reassure her that they were there. That he was there.

He had managed to lower the blindfold and loosen the gag until it lay powerless around her neck.

"Courf, you found me." She breathed; her voice was weak and barely audible.

"I always will." He whispered back, attempting to press a protective kiss on her brow, only to realize she was still trapped against the bars. "I don't have the key!" Courfeyac cried, awkwardly trying to free her with only one arm, the pain in the injured one pulsing, demanding to be felt.

Bahorel knelt menacingly next to Theodule.

"You heard my friend you asswat, cough up the key."

"Don't have it, guess the whore's stuck here, where she belongs." He smirked.

No one stopped Courfeyac as he landed a boot solidly in the man's side and then pressed the other to his chest, slowly pressing down.

"Say that again, I dare you. Give me the keys or I will crush your ribs."

"Courf." Enjolras warned weakly, frankly terrified at this side of one of his best friends.

"You wouldn't." Theodule dared, but gasped as Courfeyac's boot received more pressure.

"Are you willing to risk that?" Courfeyac threatened.

There were moments of silence, Éponine wondered if they could hear her heartbeat. She wondered if she could hear her it herself, or feel it. She felt herself slipping; she couldn't feel arms and her leg screamed in pain.

Then Theodule cracked.

"Front pocket." He whimpered.

"Enj, get them and hand them to me, but don't let this pathetic excuse of human filth even raise his head."

Enjolras was too stunned to realize he was being commanded instead of giving the orders himself.

With the key in hand, Courfeyac stumbled back over to the girl chained to the bars, inwardly growling as he saw her trembling.

"I got you Ép, you're safe." He whispered, reaching up with one arm, his other burning with the pain of Theodule's knife.

Bousset, realizing his friend's struggle, slowly unlocked each cuff and helped lower Éponine into Courfeyac's waiting arms.

The latter crushed the former to his chest as best he could with one arm, letting his tears soak her shirt.

"I fought him Fey." She breathed into his shirt, bringing her hand the front of his it, clutching as much of the soft fabric as she could.

"I know you did Ép, I know."

"I thought you weren't coming." She whispered.

Courfeyac bit back a snarl. "I would never leave you Ponine, never."

She nodded slowly.

"Courf, we need to get her out of here, her leg is bleeding." Grantaire spoke. "And you're arm is no better."

Courfeyac looked up to see his friends, pale as the autumn moon, unable to fathom what they had just witnessed, unable to process the images that would most likely plague their sleep for God knows how long. The wounded man nodded slowly, attempting to rise, only to find he couldn't lift her and raise himself up. Bahorel moved to help him, taking Éponine into his arms.

"Hey Rel." The girl spoke, cracking a small smile.

The fighter attempted to smile back, but was fighting tears. "Hey Pon." He whimpered. Even the fighter was overwhelmed, he prayed he'd never see anyone in the situation Éponine was in for as long as he lived, and if any man even joked of doing it, he might kill them on the spot.

"What the hell is going on back here!" A fierce voice barked through the otherwise silent cellblock. Theodule actually whimpered.

The former inspector Javert made his way towards the cell and surveyed the scene, the cuffs and sashes on the ground, the fading girl and bleeding young man, and thoroughly beaten officer laying under foot in the middle.

"Inspector, these men attacked me!" Theodule cried, struggling under Enjolras' foot. The others tried to speak to protest, but Javert beat them to it.

"I will hear none of your stories Gillenormand. You are hence forth stripped of all of your titles and under arrested for severely aggravated sexual assault and abuse of Police authority."

"You can't do that! You no longer work for the force! You have no power Javert!" Theodule cried.

Javert stood firm, ignoring the use of only his name. "You'll find Gillenormand, that your charges and stripping are not from me, but from your senior officer, I am simply the messenger. And while I still live and breath, you'll see that I always have power over worthless men like you. Gentlemen please take Miss Thénardier from the cell and close the door behind you. Gillenormand, you'll be spending some time here before a new home is found for you."

Theodule howled with rage and thrashed wildly against Enjolras, but Javert stood resolute, unmoving in the face of a lunatic.

Bahorel left with Éponine first, Bousset followed, supporting Courfeyac who was finally feeling the effects of blood loss. Enjolras rose slowly, daring Theodule to move with one of his glares (It also helped Grantaire was literally growling right beside his boyfriend.). Finally Grantaire left and slammed the door with much satisfaction.

"The only thing I can gather from your pathetic saving of this worthless whore is that she gives you free go's doesn't she?" Theodule shouted down the hall.

"The only thing I can gather," Courfeyac shouted back with the last dregs of his strength. "Is that you are a pathetic little man who deserves nothing more than to suffer and rot for your heinous crimes."

They ignored the man's screams as they ascended back up the dark corridor in relative silence. The only noise (besides dying screams.) was the occasional grunt from Courfeyac as he attempted to walk and very hushed sobs from Éponine who had curled as much as she could into Bahorel's large frame.

It was in this silence that they managed to hear the trap before they could fall into it.

There was a buzz of energy on the other side of the door. Shutter clicks, reporters shouting, and the sound of hungry press awaiting for their pray. The very idea of anyone seeing her like this, of seeing her vulnerable, made her burry herself into Bahorel deeper, her sobs growing slightly louder.

Courfeyac, unable to stomach any of this, unable to take the sound of his (_his?)_ Éponine in pain growled and staggered away from Bousset, yanking off his coat in the process. He bit back a scream of pain as the jacket sleeve yanked violently over his wound, but he ignored it.

"Courf? What are you doing?" Enjolras questioned, watching every step his injured friend took.

"How the hell did they find out?" He snapped, ignoring his leader's question.

Javert groaned. "I believe they followed me here, the vultures have not left me alone since I retired, they don't believe I can last. I apologize, there is a back way out." Javert gestured towards the back of the block, but an unexpected voice spoke up.

"No. We will go out this way, not to give them what they want, but to show them we are above it. That we are strong." Éponine spoke, finally reemerging from the folds of Bahorel's flannel.

"Ép, you don't have to prove anything to them." Courfeyac implored, meeting her coffee eyes for the first time in days. When they finally met, his heart nearly exploded, he never realized how much he missed something until he had it again. He never realized how deep in he was until he almost lost her.

"I know, but I have to prove something to myself. Prove that I'm stronger than he thought."

The conversation was hushed, whether due to their weakening states or the privacy of it, but it was only truly heard and felt between the two of them. Courfeyac shook his head slightly, chuckling quietly at Éponine's statement. He carefully laid his jacket over her exposed torso and leaned in closer to her ear to whisper, "My dear Ponine, you've always been the strongest person I know."

With the last wisps of strength leaving him, the blood loss catching up, he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead as best he could and then nodded up to Bahorel to lead the way out.

The fighter, who had heard parts of the exchange, nodded back and, with a straightened back and strong face, walking confidently out into the hoard of vultures.

Éponine tried to hold a brave face, to hold her head high, but everything was sinking in as the multitude of microphones were shoved in her face.

"Inspector, did you know of Officer Gillenormand's plot?  
>"Did you sign off on it without knowing before you retired?"<p>

"Miss Thénardier, did you know your father wouldn't come for you?"

"At what point did you know you were in trouble?"

"What's your history with Gillenormand? Is he an ex?"

"Was he jealous of you relationship with these boys?"

Had he his strength, he would've taken out every reporter, forced them away from her and blocked their cruel questions from her burdened ears. But even in the small act of lunging forward to yell at them enhanced the black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

"Listen here," He mumbled as powerfully as he could. "Leave her alone!" He pushed too far, Bousset's support slipped away and soon the cool linoleum floor cushioned him, the black spots taking over completely. He just made out Éponine's scream, the feeling of small hands shaking him gently, but soon, nothingness.

When he fell to the floor, his last words demanding her safety, she practically launched herself out of Bahorel's arms.

"Fey!" She cried, fighting her current protector. "Let me down Bahorel, let me down, he needs me!" She cried, the tears making their reappearance, her strength falsely returning at the need to get to him.

"Pon, you can't, your leg isn't good, we need to get you out of here." Bahorel tried to reason, but her fists beat his chest with dying strength.

"Put me down Rel, but me down, I need to get to him, please! I need to make sure that bastard didn't actually succeed in taking anything from me, please!"

That did it. The reporters ceased their questions, Bahorel put her down gently, and now the only sounds aside from her sobbing, was Enjolras' quiet hush into his phone to the others.

"Courf, please, I'm sorry I doubted you, I should've known you'd be crazy enough to come looking for a worthless slut like me. Please keep fighting, my life's not worth losing yours." She whispered to him, brushing his curls from his face. The stillness of it all, the slowing of the adrenalin that had brought her through it all had finally dissipated and slowly she felt her own energy draining.

With one last breath she released a whispered "_I love you" _into his shirt and then collapsed a top his chest.

It would've been the headline of the decade, the photo of the century, had Bahorel not knocked the camera out of the reporter's hand, sending the expensive piece of equipment crashing to the floor.

"What's the big idea? We're trying to get the story here!" The reporter shouted trying to size up Bahorel, seeing if it was worth the risk of his safety.

"What you're _trying _to do is exploit their suffering for monetary gain." Grantaire spoke, inserting himself between the reporter and Bahorel.

"You have no idea what she suffered, no idea the whole story, barely any idea of why you were truly called here in the first place. You're only knowledge is that there is human suffering and you wish to feed upon it. It's vile and antiquated and if you knew what was best for you, you'd clear out so we can get these two medical attention."

The gathered press listened in silence to Grantaire's thinly veiled threat; unable to fully comprehend what this beanie clad student was ordering them to do.

Silence shrouded the station as the leader, the cynic and the fighter lifted the wounded lovers from their place on the floor and carried them to the waiting ambulance. No one took notice of the remaining officer standing off to the side with a lopsided smile. Silently he flicked his eyes upwards and nodded his head and returned to deal with the newest addition to the cellblock.

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**Until Next time lovelies! **


	7. Unexpected Visitor

**Lovelies! Where art thou my lovelies! No reviews for the last chapter :'( makes me sad! But here is another chapter... and I would LOVE some feedback here casue Ponine's in for another rough spell... No more violence.. but a new kind of pain... So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVEIW! **

**Warning: language... a lot of fowl language... **

**Disclaimer: No.. Alas, no**

* * *

><p><em>Silently he flicked his eyes upwards and nodded his head and returned to deal with the newest addition to the cellblock.<em>

When Éponine's eyes fluttered open once more, the face at her bedside was one she'd never expected.

Mousier Gillenormand was sitting regally in the stiff hospital chair beside her bed, leaning heavily on his cane. When he noticed the young woman was finally emerging from her annoyingly long slumber, he cleared his throat.

"Ah, Miss Thénardier, I can see you are on the full road to recovery." He spoke, his voice every bit as condescending as Marius had once described (nearly in tears.) to the group one evening.

Clearing her own throat, longing for a glass of water, she found herself simply shrugging, unable to form words due to the present state of underuse.

"Well, now that you're awake, you can attend to the matter at hand."

Willing her underused voice box to work, she finally managed to question the older man.

"Which is?"

"The matter of your false accusations against my grandson."

Éponine could only manage to blink confusedly at him, baffled beyond possible thought at the nature of the statement.

"Excuse me?" She choked.

"I know the game you play Miss Thénardier, you nearly won it with my less competent grandson Marius. Had he not found the less than impressive, though," He paused, eyeing Éponine slowly enough to make her feel like she was a piece of meat. "Far more suitable fiancé you would've succeeded. And now in what, an act of revenge you turn you game on the growing career of his cousin?"

Blinking again, she questioned the old man's truly insane accusation.

"Mousier Gillenormand, I find I have no idea what you are talking about."

The older man's eyes narrowed significantly and he leaned forward dangerously in his chair, bringing his well manicured person far to close to Éponine's for her liking.

"Miss Thénardier, sexual assault is a very grave accusation to throw around these days and simply seeking revenge from one cousin to the next to get their money is a cruel card to play and I must implore you to rescind it in order to save yourself from other very real consequences."

"Are you threatening me?" She asked incredulously, her anger rising to match his own. She struggled to sit up in her bed, feeling the pain of her ribs pierce her like knives, but she kept a straight face, she refused to show weakness in front of this man.

"I wouldn't call it that Miss Thénardier, simply warning you of what could happen if you keep up this charade."

She scoffed at his ignorance.

"Do you truly believe your grandson is innocent of the atrocities he's committed not only against me but against countless other women? Do you think I would lie about nearly being raped?" She tested, meeting his fire with her own spark.

"I think you'd do quite a lot to get money out of wealthy clients who are willing to pay." He spoke, drowning the room in a heavy silence.

Éponine swallowed, taking in what he just told her and contemplating how not to completely loose her unaffected demeanor in front of this man.

Running her tongue over her chapped lips slowly and swallowing once more, she met the elder's eyes dead on.

"Mousier Gillenormand, as I told your grandson before he attempted exactly what I'm accusing him of, I am no longer in that line of business and never intend to be again."

"And as I suspect you've been told by many Miss Thénardier, once a whore always a whore." He responded evenly, smiling slowly as he saw the affect of his words explode across her face. He leaned back once more; satisfied he was closer to getting what he came for than he was previously. Satisfied he once more had the upper hand in the situation.

Biting her tongue, fighting back every curse and every swear she'd picked up from years of being on the streets, she simply returned the older man's icy gaze. She wondered where the others were, why she was alone in her hospital bed when she had awoken. Alone except for one incredibly cruel man who was hell bent on clearing his grandson's name.

"I think Mousier," She spoke, meeting his gaze with the same caliber of ice. "You've wasted your time in coming here."

"You're willing to destroy Theodule's career for you little game? Willing to risk the countless charges that can be found against you to truly put you away?" Gillenormand spoke. He was slightly taken a back by her unwillingness to admit defeat. But only slightly.

"I am willing to put Theodule in his place for all of the wrongs he's done not only against me, but against countless others and I implore you, Mousier," she shot the word out like an arrow and celebrated inside when the reoccurrence of his own words hit their mark. "That you open your eyes to the true monster your grandson is. Now you're not the only one who could look through my past and find a small criminal record, but that's all been said and done Mousier. What I'm wondering now is what could I pull up over the matter to which you broke into my hospital room." She finished, flashing a smug little smile as the older man began to splutter ridiculously.

"How dare you accuse me, the door was ajar, I have done no such thing." He seethed.

"What have you done with the others?"

"The others Miss Thénardier?" He drawled, suddenly uninterested in her question.

Éponine feared the answer to the next question, but she took a breath and asked it anyway.

"Was there no one in the room when you came?" It came out almost as a whisper, and Gillenormand's crinkled face slithered into a devious smile.

"Why no, I have been the only one in here for quite some time now, I understand they're holding vigil at the other boy's bed. The other buffoon who fell into your trap."

He knew he hit his mark, knew he had succeeded in taking the upper hand when he saw her shoulders slump and the water build up from behind her eyes. He could almost see the ideas of rejection; deceit, failure, and loss tumble through her pathetic conniving little mind.

"Yes, as I understand the poor idiot is in the Critical Care Unit. Such a tragedy." He sighed, rejoicing in the effect his words were holding.

Éponine no longer cared whether anyone was in the room or not when she awoke. The only thing that struck her most was _vigil_. Courfeyac was dying and it was her fault. The others would hate her _she_ would hate her. She wished Theodule had done his job and gotten rid of her when he had the chance, saved Courfeyac the trouble of even thinking of saving her. Saved Courfeyac the pain and saved his life.

She had to get to him.

Lifting herself once more from the reclines of the pillows, she attempted to swing herself off of the bed, only to find her leg nearly numb with pain.

The older man had the decency to pull back in surprise at the young woman's actions.

"What on earth are you doing?" He questioned. Had she not been in the mindset of getting to Courfeyac, she would've taken the time to laugh at the comical size of the cruel man's eyes.

"I want you to leave." She spoke, ignoring the pain in her leg; she struggled to lift herself by placing pressure on the other.

"Miss Thénardier, I cannot begin to comprehend the levels of guilt you must be experiencing, but I assure you those hooligans won't want the reason for this vigil anywhere near them right now." Gillenormand tried to reason, but gaped when his words were met with one of the deadliest glares he had ever seen cross a woman's face or anyone's for that matter.

"I won't stand for your bile any longer, I am getting to that buffoon and the other hooligans, your words hold no power over me. Good day Mousier." She spat and continued to focus her efforts

He watched her in dumbstruck awe as she lifted herself awkwardly off the bed only to stumble forward when weight was put on the wrong leg. Gritting her teeth, she reached for anything she could to support herself on her journey.

"This is futile Miss Thénardier, you won't get very far walking and even if you did they don't want you near him." Gillenormand tried, but was once again struck into silence as he watched her take his cane and pull her self up to continue the agonizing journey.

The only thought going through her head concerned Courfeyac and his safety. This idea alone numbed the blinding pain electrifying her leg as she made her way out of the hospital room.

Mousier Gillenormand was frozen in shock for a moment watching the foolish girl further injure herself to see to the safety of this boy. He wasn't sure of the condition of Marius' old roommate. He'd heard in passing while asking around as to where the foul creature was recovering. He'd managed to arrive as one of her sentinels decided to go for a coffee run and after giving several attendings very generous bills succeeded in making it impossible for any of those rabblerousing students to return for several hours.

Tests, that was what he made sure was the official reason as to why no one could access the room. No one was to disturb him in his quest to keep his family name clean. He hadn't prepared for the ball of angry energy that was this chit. Frozen, he wasn't able to pull about the sense to call for attendings to keep the girl in bed. He simply watched as she practically pulled herself to the lift. Watched until he realized the damage she could cause if she managed to reach those morons and the fact that she had stolen his cane for her own stupidity. Rising quickly, he left the room to follow her.

"Stop you little thief!"

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><p><strong>So? Watcha think? I would LOVE to hear thoughts for this chapter! More reviews, faster the update ;)<strong>

**Until next time lovelies! :) **


	8. You Dare?

**Hello Lovelies! Keep the reviews comin :) they make me smile! :D Here's the next chapter! **

**Warning: Foul Language... Verbal Abuse, mentions of not only Ép's past, but also Marius' past... (!) **

**Disclaimer: Nope... still nope**

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><p>Rising quickly, he left the room to follow her. "Stop you little thief!"<p>

Had she not been so determined to get to Courfeyac she would've taken note of the strange emptiness of the hall. Perhaps leading her to conclude that Gillenormand was full of it. But she was set on getting to him and nothing was going to deter her.

She'd been in this hospital before, multiple times. When Gav broke his arm, visiting Joly and Combeferre during their late nights, doing some volunteer work, the boys in general, she knew where the CCU was and she would get to it no matter the consequences.

Halfway to the lift she heard a collection of voices floating over from one of the nearby lounges, familiar voices.

"How bloody long has it been? Those tests must be done by now!" Someone growled.

"It's only been an hour and a half." Another reasoned.

"I left for coffee and they pounce to take tests? C'mon Enj, no one does that, someone would've told one of us while we sat there that they needed to run tests. Something's up." The first argued.

"R, we're all worried, but I'm sure it's for the best what they're doing, she'll be fine." A softer voice soothed.

"But will he be? He's been demanding to see her for two bloody hours, I don't think I can take anymore of his whining." The first voice complained

"He's worried, we all are." A fourth voice spoke, calm and guiding.

They were silent after that and Éponine strained to hear more, she knew those voices! Were they talking of her? Was Courfeyac ok? Was anything that vile man told her true?

In the moments she stood stationary listening to the boys speak the previous determination that had numbed her pain had filtered out of her mind. She heard footsteps and the hushed calculated demands of Marius' grandfather behind her, demanding she get back at once. As he neared her, he began to reach for his cane. Needing to escape him, needing to get closer to the voices she took a step forward. One careless step forward and she'd placed most of her weight on her throbbing leg, sending a staggering pain through her.

Unable to hold the pain in any longer a painful scream broke through her lips and she reached forward to catch anything to stop her fall. Her hand made contact with the desk only to knock a stack of papers to the floor and fall to the ground anyway. Gillenormand seized the opportunity to take his cane back and, in a hope to silence the seizing chit, raised his cane high above him.

"What the hell?"

"Miss Thénardier, enough with the dramatics!" Mousier Gillenormand roared preparing to bring it down.

"What's going on?" The voices spoke again, getting louder. She needed to get to them, needed to reach them. Ignoring the fire in her leg and the blunt object raised high above her she began to crawl forward.

"Miss Thénardier stop!" He brought it down fiercely upon her middle and she cried out in pain, but it soon the tears turned to relief as she saw the familiar faces round the corner.

"Éponine?!"

"Grandfather?"

"What the hell is going on?"

So many voices flooded her ears as she struggled to find her way to a sitting position. Now not only did her leg burn but also her side once more radiated with pain. Soon two strong arms enveloped her brought her into their safety, lifting her to his height.

"Don't worry Ponine, we've got you now." She heard Grantaire whisper and she pressed her cheek into his worn flannel, letting her tears soak the paint stained fabric.

"Grandfather what is going on?" Marius demanded, horrified from witnessing his friend in such pain.

"Marius! I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

"Stop her from what Grandfather? And how?" He questioned warily, noticing the state of his grandfather's cane.

"I attempted reason but she won't back down from this nonsense that Theodule harmed her in some way. It's preposterous. Marius, there is often no other choice than means of submission." The old man scoffed, flexing his cane. In an instant Éponine understood where Marius got his oblivious nature from, for the old man continued despite the literal growl she felt reverberate through Grantaire's chest.

"You beat her with your cane?" Marius breathed, putting together the facts much quicker than would be his usual. Though, no one seemed to have made any notice to his realization.

"Mousier Gillenormand, are you suggesting Éponine would lie about what she went through?" Enjolras chipped off, his patience running thin.

The old man had the gall to let out a bark of laughter. "You honestly believe a gold digging whore like herself would tell the truth about anything? Why, had the majority of you lot not been screwy I'm sure she'd try her game on you as she did with Marius."

"Grandfather you are out of line." Marius roared, stepping in front of Jehan before the little poet could unleash any of his fury.

"Marius, don't be as foolish as your mother falling for a conman's pathetic games."

Marius turned pale at his Grandfather's mention of his late parents. He felt as though he was ten years old again, hearing hushed insults from his grandfather and aunt about his parents, dealing with Theodule's constant ridicule. He wished he were surprised to feel moisture build behind his hazel eyes.

Ignoring his grandson's pain, the older Gillenormand continued. "You defend a common whore for accusing your cousin with no proof? Her mouth is as loose as her legs, she'll spout anything to get a few sous!"

"ENOUGH!" A new voice ripped through the loaded rant and everyone turned to identify the source. Éponine, who had long since buried her face in Grantaire's shirt, only strong enough to bear so much, snapped her head up when she heard the newcomer.

"Fey." She breathed feeling a smile spread across her face for the first time in days.

The center was standing at the far end of the hall, the others assembled behind him, each more furious than the next. His arm was bandaged and tied up in a sling, but he stood on his own two feet and appeared nearly restored to his own self.

Marching with purpose he placed himself directly in between Éponine and the villain who dared insult her.

"How you dare you show up here and spray venom about a woman you know nothing about. How dare you spew filth about a woman who is ten times the human being you could ever fathom being."

"How dare I? Have you too fallen for her spell? She's a witch and she's got you all enchanted! Have any of you any proof to her accusations against Theodule."

Courfeyac opened his mouth but paused for a moment. It wasn't until he felt someone gently squeeze his hand that he knew it was ok to speak what he'd sworn to silence.

Turning his full attention on Mousier Gillenormand, he rose to his full height and met the man dead in the eye.

"Mousier Gillenormand, I have witnessed two separate events that prove exactly what Éponine is accusing your shitty grandson of doing."

"Have you really?" Gillenormand scoffed.

"Yes, nearly a year ago Éponine was forced to be out very late when Theodule approached her and attempted to force himself upon her, had I not arrived when I did, he would've succeeded." Courfeyac spoke slowly, waiting for the old man's reaction and wasn't too shocked to see none.

"There is no denying," he continued. "That your grandson issued an arrest warrant for her to get what he believed he deserved. Two days she sat in that cell until Theodule attempted to retrieve what was once denied him. Mousier Gillenormand, I don't think you understand the levels of fury you drag me through when you say her suffering is lies. I saw her in ways I will probably never un-see her, with both arms tied to bars, blind folded, gagged, shirt in tatters, and crying out from the pain of a knife being dragged through her thigh. Can you deny my first hand witness Mousier?" Courfeyac questioned, one eyebrow arched high above his fiery eyes.

"I can deny anything I damn well please." The man spat. "I believe you've all been hoodwinked into believing this slut's stories and if she was on the street giving out her wares than she deserved everything she got."

Had both of his arms been in tact (and Bahorel and Bousset not been beside him.) his hands would be securely locked around the old man's neck. All he managed was a primeval growl and a lunge forward before the others caught him round the middle.

"How dare you talk of Éponine that way! How dare you even bring yourself to speak her name you foul shit!" Courfeyac yelled, fighting pathetically against his restraints with only half his strength.

"How dare you! You are out of place to insult me boy! You're nothing but a dandy clinging to the truth of your whore because she's a good go! Open your eyes!" Gillenormand yelled, waving his arms frantically trying to make his point. Courfeyac only fought harder and truthfully, if they weren't concerned of the trouble they'd get in if they not only unleashed Courfeyac's anger on the old man, but their own. Marius however wasn't held back by anything to put his grandfather in his place.

"Grandfather that is enough!" The normally awkward young man roared sufficiently silencing the yelling, every eye turning to him. "You are far out of line to be making any of these comments or accusations. And you are even further out of line to raise your cane to her. Éponine is nothing you're accusing her of and you are being a bitter old man to accuse a person who's been severely injured by someone you love. You have to face the facts and realize Theodule is a sick, cruel, and sadomasochistic bastard."

"Marius!" Gillenormand yelled, but Marius cut him off.

"No Grandfather, you can not buy off every girl Theodule has hurt and you certainly can't deny that he went into the force to inflict pain on people. It's what he's enjoyed his entire life! Grandfather, you are far out of bounds to even try your sick way of getting people to agree to your views on Éponine because Courfeyac is not the only witness. I ask you to leave Grandfather, you have no business here." Marius finished, crossing his arms and placing himself between his Grandfather and his friends.

The old man was silent for a few moments, simply gaping at the tone and words his more docile (and frankly oblivious) grandson had just used against him.

"Marius. I understand you may be jealous of Theodule's accomplishments to your own, but aren't you passed the age of name calling?" He finally spoke.

Marius flexed his fists several times; unable to put into words the anger he was feeling towards his Grandfather at this moment. Finally he found some.

"Its possible, but I certainly know I'm too old to be beaten into submission with that cane of yours, the one you so freely used on Éponine before we rounded the corner. All to get your way. Who's childish now Grandfather?"

The boys behind him were frankly shocked at what was occurring between the family members. In just two days they had witnessed a very different side to Marius than they ever expected, and all coming out around his family (Though frankly after meeting two members, they understood why.).

"Why you little ungrateful bastard!" Gillenormand roared. "I'll say when you're too old for the cane you little ingrate!"

Someone within the crowd though had had enough. She was ready to give this man a piece of her mind.

Pushing through the group, she put just another layer between the old man and the cane and the boys.

"Mousier Gillenormand, I know we've only met a few times before, but I'm going to introduce myself one more time because I don't think your pea brain has enough capacity to remember or listen to anything except the stupidity that dribbles out of your simple mouth. I'm Cossette Fauvlechant, Marius' fiancé."

The old man spluttered. "I beg your pardon?!"

"Oh, should I repeat? I hear the elderly brains, especially those of such stupidity, deteriorate faster than others."

"Do you realize who you're talking to young lady?" He cried, baffled they'd forgotten the power he held, the cane he held.

"Yes, I believe I'm talking to the man who not only made my fiancé's child hood miserable by constantly insulting the parents he was only blessed with a few years of knowing and also apparently beat him, but also the heartless man who looked a victimized young woman in the eye and tried to force her into saying what she endured wasn't true." Cossette stated, clear and simple and laced with dangerous threat, one that wasn't meant to be messed with.

"Miss, how dare you?! I have given nothing but support to my grandson despite his paternal downfalls and I am only trying to open your eyes to her lies!"

"No Mousier Gillenormand." Cosette spoke, her voice laced with false sympathy. "You see you've deluded yourself to believe that your other grandson is the gift of God because your son married who you allotted for him. You've deluded yourself into thinking he can do no wrong. You've been blind to his life of hideous crime and now you've threatened the well being of my best friend, and a sister to a very active group of rabble-rousers who are not ones to be trifled with. So if you knew what was best for you Mousier, I'd leave before they release Courfeyac. He hasn't taken too lightly to the bile you've been spraying."

Mousier Gillenormand sputtered, his face becoming redder as her speech continued.

"Marius, are you going to let your twit of a fiancé treat your Grandfather in such a way?" Mousier Gillenormand demanded, but Marius, fuming at the countless insults towards not only himself but now his Cosette?! The once complacent freckled boy crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"Grandfather, you have acted most disgustingly in the last few hours and I stand behind Cosette one hundred percent, leave."

The old man backed away slowly, taking in every murderous face in the bunch, including that of the little harlot he tried to expose.

"You'll be sorry, you'll see who she truly is." He tried once more, to no avail.

"That would be a problem if we didn't already know and love her for who she is. The only person we'll be sorry for is you, you and your blind ignorance. Good day Mousier." Courfeyac clipped.

The old man, realizing his words were not cracking their thick skulls, decided upon the only solution that was left, silencing.

"Very well." He spoke. "Since you're all clearly oblivious to a harlot's lies, I honestly don't see any other way. And truly, it's for your own good."

They stared at him and his odd words. Unfortunately the open stance they took left Éponine, who was now leaning heavily on Grantaire and reaching slightly for Courfeyac, vulnerable.

With surprising speed for an elderly fellow, Gillenormand had managed to raise his cane and bring the horn tipped bird forward like a battering ram, shoving it into Éponine's sternum with all his might.

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><p><strong>Sooo? Watcha think? Especially on Marius' bit? would LOVE to hear feedback! Please please PLEASE commentreview, follow/fav! **

**Until Next time Lovelies! :D **


	9. Immediate Aftermath

**Hello my Lovelies! It's been a while hasn't it? Well, here I am with end to a cliffe followed by a bit of a filler chapter I'm afraid... Hopefully i'll have updates for everything within the next week or two.. So fingers crossed!**

**Warning: Language**

**Disclaimer: nope**

_With surprising speed for an elderly fellow, Gillenormand had managed to raise his cane and bring the horn tipped bird forward like a battering ram, shoving it into Éponine's sternum with all his might. _

Everything slowed in that moment. The chill of the gold penetrated the thin excuse of fabric called a hospital gown as the blunt crown slammed her chest and knocked the breath from her. She could hear the roar of fury from everyone around, the shrieking of nurses who'd just made it to the commotion, and then Gillenormand's vicious cackle.

"I've done you all a favor if this does its job! Should've done it sooner realizing you're all fools for a good whore's tale!"

She was falling, struggling to breath and struggling to keep the multiple areas of pain at bay.

In the confusion and the uproar, no one noticed that in the moments following being struck in the chest, her grip on Grantaire vanished, the artist moved in fury towards the attacker and Éponine was left to greet the ground like an old friend.

Almost.

One arm caught her around the middle, one arm too few, for they nearly went crashing to the floor anyhow, but this time the savior wasn't on death's door.

"I got you Ép." Courfeyac whispered into her hair, thankful she was weighing him down and keeping him from a possible criminal record. Gillenormand was lucky some of them had the decency to hold the more furious back.

Éponine, feeling the sense of safety finally flood her veins and the uncontrollable amount of pain pulsing through her, nodded slowly before greeting the darkness as a worthy ally.

While everyone lunged for the man who caused Éponine more pain, Courfeyac could only focus on the girl who had gone through so much and still had to suffer. He watched as her grip on Grantaire slackened and the breath left her petit frame in a whoosh of air and then he felt himself move as she fell back. He stumbled back slightly when her back connected with his chest, but he held his ground, pulling her into him despite his own injury.

"I got you Ép." He whispered into her hair. When her eyes fluttered shut, that is when the anger coursed through his veins properly.

"Mousier Gillenormand, I want you to know that if you have caused her any permanent harm, you will pay the consequences." He spoke through gritted teeth, bringing silence to the otherwise shouting group.

"I beg your pardon." The old man scoffed, standing a good distance from both Grantaire and Bahorel who were being physically restrained by every other member of the group. Courfeyac fought the urge to yell, or at least roll his eyes.

"I doubt your hearing is as poor as your sense of judgment, so I don't feel the need to repeat myself. Now it would probably be wise for you to clear out before someone takes Éponine, the most worthy and loving person of this whole lot, from my grasp and back to her bed to recover, freeing my arm to throttle you."

Eyes darted back and forth between the two, the elder spluttering pathetically while the younger practically emitted fire from his deathly narrow eyes.

"We'll discuss your actions later Grandfather, for now I ask you to leave." Marius spoke, placing himself directly in front of his grandfather and the group.

"How dare you Marius, after everything I've done for you?" The old man questioned, possible hurt tainting his words.

Marius paused for a brief moment, reflecting on what his grandfather implied.

"Grandfather, where you did supply a roof and living requirements, I don't believe there was once a moment where you supplied even half of what these people give me daily. I know I'm a dolt, a hopeless romantic, and frankly slower on the uptake than a brick wall, but here I stand still supported and welcomed by them, despite my father or my mother or my money, or my anything. And Éponine? She saw me for who I was from the moment I moved out. Never once since we became friends did she develop feelings for me purely for what she'd get out of it. Today Grandfather, you were far out of line and we will discuss the stipulations to keep your precious name out of the press for your actions today. Are we understood?"

"You little," he sneered, but nearly yelped when a fierce growl rumbled in Bahorel's chest.

"Are we understood Grandfather?" Marius questioned, his arms folded tightly into his chest.

The older man gaped for a few minutes, his weathered mouth opening and closing in comedic ways before finally slowing to a nod.

"Understood." He clipped. "Good-day Marius, I do hope you'll one day learn the mistakes you make."

"No Grandfather, I know ones I've made and I know of ones I'm sure to make, but it's you I worry to learn of your ignorance. It's you I fear will never learn."

The old man, nodded slowly and turned towards the exit. His cane clicked pointedly along the hard linoleum tiles on his journey out.

"Holy Shit Marius, you lasted eighteen years under that roof?" Musichetta questioned, finally pushing forward from behind Joly and Bousset.

"Seventeen technically, my father put me in school a year earlier to plan ahead I guess." Marius said quietly, floating slowly back to earth after everything that had happened. "Is Ép alright?"

All eyes turned back to Courfeyac who had the still brunette propped up against his chest, his eyes however were focused on her.

"She passed out after the cane struck her sternum, but she still has a pulse, I think she'll be alright so long as we get her back into bed." He said quietly, shifting her slightly so that her head rested under his chin.

"Why the hell was she out of bed?" Bahorel, who hadn't been present when they first found her, questioned.

"I believe the supposed tests were Gillenormand's way of gaining a private audience with her and something he said set her off, because she got here herself." Combeferre supplied.

"Bloody crawling." Grantaire added.

"I think she fell, that's why she screamed." Jehan whispered, clinging tightly to Combeferre's arm.

"Ahem." A meek voice cleared itself from behind them. "We can get a gurney if you need it to bring Miss Thénardier back to her room, she really needs to be on bed rest with the leg injury and her ribs. And Mr. Courfeyac you should also be back in your room." The nurse commanded, but Courfeyac shook his head.

"I'm not being separated from her again! Who's going to request tests next time, hm? Montparnasse? Her Father? Who else do you let request tests in this damned hospital?" Courfeyac roared causing Éponine to nearly be jostled out of his arms.

"Courf, calm down." Enjolras commanded. "Bahorel or Grantaire will carry Ép back to her room."

"And you can go with her, you're pretty much on the mend anyhow." Joly offered.

"Excuse me, but who are you to give permission?" The nurse demanded.

"Dr. Augustus Joly, I'm an intern here. And I think my friend here," he gestured to Enjolras. "Would like to talk to whoever allowed these 'tests' to be administered." He clipped, flashing his badge. The nurse blushed.

Enjolras hid a smile as the young hypochondriac took such authority over people, something he despised doing. "Thank you Joly, could someone carry Ép back?"

Grantaire nodded and took the sleeping girl from Courfeyac's arms and the little party all assembled to follow the artist and his charge.

"You can't all go in there! It's against hospital policy!" The nurse cried.

"You'll find allowing pain and hurt to come to our family is against Amis policy, so we'll be taking over from here." Feuilly said simply. With that the group turned their back on the nurse and Enjolras and continued back to Éponine's room.

**So... watcha think? I know it's a bit filler, but the next chapter will be hopefully longer and more plot fulfilling... **

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**Until next time Lovelies! :D **


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